12 Days of Minewt
by Qui Vivre Verra
Summary: Minho had never really fallen out of love with Newt, didn't know if that would ever be possible. The blonde had been his fuse for two years, that couldn't easily be forgotten. After they had split Minho felt as if all of the passion he'd ever had walked out the door with Newt. Tonight it had crept back in in the form of tousled hair and Minho's old sweatshirt.
1. Dancing

**Hi guys! This is part of a 12 days of Minewt challenge! All Christmas/Holiday themed! As always, I don't own the rights to TMR!**

 **Enjoy!**

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He heard the music first, as he started to shake the sleep from his system. It wasn't quite Christmas music, from what Minho could tell in his groggy state, but it was warm and melodical. He noticed the clock as he was in the process of pushing himself out of bed feet-first. It read 3:00 in bright red. What the heck?

He stumbled out of the bedroom, pulling on a navy blue shirt in the process. The lights in his small kitchen were on, but dimmed, and a figure stood in the center wearing plaid pjs and a much-too-large sweatshirt.

"Newt?" He asked, wondering if this was a terrifyingly realistic dream. He hadn't seen the other boy in months, not since their messy breakup. He was scared to move, scared to breathe, not wanting whatever this was to disappear.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" The blonde asked, motioning to turn off the music coming from his phone on the counter.

 _Yes_ , Minho thought. "No. What, um, what are you doing?"

Newt took his time before replying, shutting off the music and running his fingers through his messy hair. "I got locked out of my flat." At Minho's quizzical look he continued, "and I know I'm probably the last person you want to see right now, but Tommy's not home and I didn't know where to go and I still had your spare. I'm really sorry _I'lljustgonow_."

"No, wait." Minho reached out and laid a gentle hand on Newt's shoulder, the familiarity of the gesture both painful and comforting to both of them. "Stay. It's okay."

This was real. Newt was actually here, in his apartment, and not trying to kill him. He moved to make them hot chocolate as Newt retreated to the living room. He didn't know what to say, what to do, but he knew this was his chance to fix everything.

The two had met in their junior year of college, when Newt had transferred from England to his school. They were in the same lit class, both suffering through it and complaining about how stupid it was that they needed to read Shakespeare to graduate. Minho had been awful, barely managing Cs on his essays, but Newt, even though he hated the class, was able to secure top marks on every assignment. Minho was sure it was just because he was British, but since he was willing to help his struggling classmate he had kept his mouth shut.

After noticing how his two friends were dancing around each other, Thomas had taken it upon himself to push the two together, which was both the best and the worst thing the brunette had ever done. What had been slowly burning throughout the semester went up in flames as they began their relationship. They were consumed in passion, whether it be good or bad. They were volatile and explosive and too in love to notice the approaching fallout.

Minho had never really fallen out of love with Newt, didn't know if that would ever be possible. The blonde had been his fuse for two years, that couldn't easily be forgotten. After they had split Minho felt as if all of the passion he'd ever had walked out the door with Newt. Tonight it had crept back in in the form of tousled hair and Minho's old sweatshirt.

"Are you okay?" He asked softly as he approached the blonde with two steaming mugs. Newt was curled up at the end of his couch, as if he were trying to be as nonexistent as possible.

"Bloody brilliant," the blonde shot back as he accepted the cup. His words lacked the fire Minho was so accustomed to, though.

"So what are you doing locked out of your apartment at three in the morning?"

Newt looked down, as if he didn't realize what he was wearing, and shrugged. "Kind of a stupid story."

"Trust me, I'm used to your stupidity."

Newt turned on the music again and set his phone on the coffee table. He took a deep breath before saying, "I've been staying at Tommy's since I, um"

"Moved out?" Minho supplied.

"Yeah. And I had stepped out for a smoke-"

"You picked that up again?"

Newt shrugged and took a sip of hot chocolate. "Stop worrying, _mom_." Minho rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I had stepped out for a minute and the shank left without telling me and locked the bloody door. He wasn't answering his phone and I didn't know where else to go."

"But you said you had my spare?"

"It was in the sweatshirt pocket," Newt said, his cheeks turning red.

" _My_ sweatshirt pocket. I can't believe you still wear this old thing," Minho said, thumbing the sleeve. Newt flinched at the contact but didn't move Minho's hand.

"I like it. It's soft and it _stillsmellslikeyou_ ," the blonde replied, mumbling the second half.

Minho let the comment go, knowing Newt wouldn't appreciate his mentioning it. "I'm not complaining, but why'd you come _here_?"

"I didn't really know where else to go, honestly. I don't really know anyone but you and Tommy."

"And you thought breaking into your exes' house in the middle of the night was a good idea?" Minho asked with light humor.

"It's not breaking in if you gave me a key."

"Touché." Minho took another long sip out of his mug. "Well I'm glad you didn't have to sleep on the street."

"I thought about it. I didn't know how you'd take to me showing up. I was planning to slip out before you woke up."

"Well it's really great to see you again." To this Newt was silent, but he uncurled himself from his tight ball. "How've you been otherwise?"

"Honestly? It's been really shitty. Living with Tommy is great and all, but he's not-"

"Me."

They sat in silence for a while, sipping their hot chocolate and listening to the low murmur of the music. This was uncharacteristic of the two, who were only ever silent if their lips were preoccupied, but the silence was surprisingly comfortable. Minho's mind was racing. Was there a chance Newt still felt the same about him? Was there a chance they could rekindle what they had?

"Dance with me," Minho said suddenly. He peeled himself off the couch and extended a hand to Newt, who gingerly accepted.

Their hands fit perfectly together, as they always had. Minho felt like a high-schooler giddy about holding his crush's hand for the first time. Tingles ran up his arm and he offered Newt an assuring smile.

Once away from the couch, he wrapped his arms around Newt's waist and the younger boy tentatively looped his around Minho's neck. They didn't speak, only swayed back and forth to the calming music. In a moment of confidence, he pulled the blonde closer. Newt let out a small squawk but followed Minho's lead nonetheless.

He sank into Newt's body, burying his head into the taller boy's neck. "I missed this."

Newt let out a low chuckle, "we never did this."

"I mean I've missed _you_."

"I've missed you too, Minho."

They continued dancing together, just enjoying each other's company. When the song ended, Minho took a step back but kept his hands at Newt's waist. They stood there, looking at each other, for a long moment before Minho leaned over and captured Newt's lips in his.

It was everything they had always been but also everything they never were. The same passion was there but with it patience. It didn't lack the usual electricity, but there was also a calmness. Minho taste the smoke from Newt's cigarette and made a note to lecture the younger boy about that later. Their lips moved together effortlessly and Minho pulled the younger boy closer. He felt a hand curl into his hair and deepened the kiss. The blonde was letting out little gasps that Minho couldn't get enough of, couldn't understand how he had survived for so long without them. Without him.

Eventually, the two broke apart with wide grins and flushed cheeks.

"Would you want to get coffee sometime?"

"I hate coffee." Newt deadpanned.

"Tea then, you British shank."

"I don't want it to be, I don't know, the same."

"What do you mean?" Minho asked as he lightly pulled Newt back to the couch.

"It's just, it's _us_. We're always fighting and storming out and I don't know if I can keep living like that."

Minho ran a hand through his hair, "I know, I don't want that either. But it sucks waking up alone and not seeing you all the time. It's so shucking painful. You know I still have your red teacup and your Fleetwood Mac record, and I'll stumble upon them sometimes and think about how much miss you. It's just really lonely."

"You sap," Newt said, bumping Minho with his shoulder.

"I don't know how to not fight with you, honestly. I don't. But I think it's worth trying."

"Yeah. Besides, I don't know how much longer I can live with Tommy; you know the shank never does his share of the chores?"

"Oh, I know," Minho said with a chuckle. "We were roommates for two years."

"Right, yeah."

The Asian decided to push his luck. "So, uh, you're moving back in?"

"How about you take me on that date and if we can go a day without being at each other's throats I'll consider it."'

"Deal."

"I should probably go," Newt said, looking at his watch, which read 4:30. "Hopefully Tommy's back now, he probably went on an ice cream run."

Minho cleared his throat, "ah, if you want you can stay here. On the couch," he added at Newt's skeptical look.

"Thanks, Minho. I really appreciate it."

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 **a/n: Not the best ending but I didn't know where else to take it! Hope you enjoyed!**


	2. Hope

**Hi guys! In a sequence of events, this picks up a short period after the last chapter (though you'll have to squint to see it!) I thought it'd be nice to finally have a collection of related stories! Enjoy!**

 **Trigger warnings: Depression, Attempted suicide**

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Minho was on his way home from work when his phone started buzzing. He reached over to the passenger seat to grab it, groaning with the effort. He pressed the red button when he saw it was Thomas's face on the screen. "Stupid shank," Minho muttered to himself as he tossed the phone back down.

A few minutes later his phone buzzed again.

"What do you want, Thomas?" He asked as he shoved the phone between his ear and his shoulder.

The other boy was hysterical. "It's…N...N…Newt."

It took all of Minho's restraint not to slam on the brakes. "Thomas, tell me what's wrong."

"Just c-come to the hospital, yeah?" And with that Thomas ended the call, leaving Minho very confused and flustered.

He could barely focus on the road as he practically flew to the hospital. Tears blurred his vision and he tried his best to blink them away. His grip grew dangerously tight on the wheel as he raced through stop signs and crosswalks alike.

Even though he knew it was futile, he tried calling Newt on his phone. Some part of him was hoping it wasn't a big deal, that Thomas was just overreacting, but his heart sank when the call went to voicemail. Nevertheless, he tried again as he barreled into the hospital parking lot. "Shit, Newt," he said to no one as he scoured the lot for a spot.

Finally he was able to snag one, though by this point he was shaking so hard he could barely park. Grabbing his keys and his phone, he locked the car and bolted into the emergency room.

Thomas was waiting for him, obviously distraught.

"What the hell happened? Is he ok?"

"I don't know, Minho," his friend responded. "I got here twenty minutes and they still won't let me in to see him."

"How did you know? Nobody else called me!"

Thomas shook his head nervously, "I'm still listed as his emergency contact."

"You're what?" Minho asked, trying to keep the jealousy out of his voice. At least, not too much of it.

"Minho, he probably forgot to change it since he moved back in with you. That's really not our biggest concern right now."

"Of course it isn't."

"Let's try talking to the secretary again."

The lady working at the desk was not happy to be bothered. "Are either of you related to him?"

"Uh, no." Minho said, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked to Thomas for help.

"Then you can't see him."

"You don't understand, his family is on the other side of the world. We're all he has."

"No exceptions."

"Please, ma'am. Can we at least get an update on his condition," Thomas asked, ever the reasonable one. He kept a steady hand on Minho's shoulder, trying to ease the other man's tension.

"That's not possible."

"But I'm his emergency contact."

"Are you related to him?" She asked, giving Thomas a beady-eyed glare.

"No but-"

"No exceptions."

"Are you fucking kidding me, this is completely ridiculous!" Minho interjected, slamming a fist on the desk. Thomas, always the more levelheaded one, pulled his friend away.

"You're not helping," the brunette whispered in his ear.

"Neither are you," Minho bit back. Nevertheless, he grudgingly allowed his friend to drag him back to the waiting area.

It was twelve hours before either of them heard anything about Newt. In that time, seeing as Minho refused to leave the hospital, Thomas had stopped by both their apartments to grab food and fresh clothing. Minho, though parked in the waiting room, had been making calls nonstop to everyone ranging from Newt's work to his family in England.

The nurses that exited the large medical wing doors wore tired, solemn expressions. Upon seeing them approach, Minho jumped to his feet, shaking Thomas awake.

"What's going on, how is he?" The Asian asked anxiously.

"He's stable and resting now," said one nurse, a stunning blonde woman who looked like Amanda Seyfried had walked out of the movie screen and into Glade City Hospital.

"Can we see him?" Asked Thomas at the same time that Minho demanded, "What happened to him?"

"His left tibia was severely fractured in multiple locations following a fall from the second story of an apartment building. His left arm also sustained injuries, though these will likely fully recover within a few months."

"A fall?" Minho asked, bewildered and terrified.

"We're looking into the possibility of it being an intentional act," said the other nurse calmly, as if this didn't involve an actual human's life.

"Like, a suicide?" Thomas asked when Minho, frozen in shock, didn't.

"It's possible." The first nurse again, seemingly much more considerate than her companion. "Did Newt have any major mental health concerns?"

"Depression," Minho finally choked out. "I thought he was getting better. He wasn't taking his medication anymore, he said he didn't need it. That he felt fine."

"What pushed him to do this though? And how did he survive," Thomas asked, worry etched onto his face.

"It could have been a result of some sort of stressor or trigger in his life. Losing a job or ending an important relationship, for example. All I know is that your friend is very lucky to be alive. The odds of him surviving such a fall were incredibly slim. What's even more incredible is that he will be able to almost completely recover, his left leg being the only permanent damage."

"So he's going to be ok?" Minho asked, anxious to hear the final verdict.

"He's going to be more than fine. But if you ask me, it's almost like he didn't really want to go through with it. Like there was something keeping him here. His body didn't give up hope even if his mind did, and that's pretty extraordinary."

The relief that surged through Minho was almost physical. It coursed through his pounding heart into the very core of him, the strength of it almost making his kneed buckle. He gripped Thomas for support, his grip tight, though very much unlike earlier.

"He's lucky to have you, you know?" The nurse asked gently.

"Thank you," Minho choked out between tears. Thomas echoed his friend's sentiment. Newt was going to be ok. They were going to be ok.

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 **a/n: Thanks for reading! Favorites and reviews mean the absolute world to me!**


	3. Food

**Hi guys! Here's my attempt to make up for the lack of Newt in the last chapter! This takes place a year later!**

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"Minho, can you come stir this for me," Newt called, looking positively adorable with his tousled hair and white apron.

"Do I _have_ to," groaned Minho from the couch, already anticipating his boyfriend's snarky response.

"No, of course not. You can just not eat." Ah, there it was.

Minho pulled himself to his feet and trudged towards the kitchen. "You're the one that wanted to cook a big dinner anyway."

" _I'm sorry_ ," snapped Newt, although his voice lacked any real malice. "I'm not the one who's been complaining for two hours about his hunger."

"I would've been fine with take out," Minho murmured into Newt's neck, snaking his arms around the leaner man.

Newt turned around in Minho's arms and snuck his fingers under the hem of his boyfriend's shirt. "Can't you just appreciate me trying to do something nice for you?"

"What are you making then?"

" _We_ are making pesto cavatappi and tomato basil soup," Newt responded sternly before withdrawing his hands and leaning over to grab a spoon. "Now stir."

"Aw c'mon babe," Minho whined. He moved to press Newt to the counter. The blonde, who had been unsteadily making his way to the other side of the kitchen let out a small yelp. The motion had thrown him off balance and to keep it, he'd put too much weight on his bad leg. Minho, noticing this, scooped Newt off the floor in a quick motion and placed him lightly on the counter.

"I'm sorry," he said, placing a light kiss on the blonde's temple. "Are you ok?"

"Don't worry so much, _mom_."

"How am I not supposed to worry?"

"It's been over a year, it doesn't hurt that bad." At Minho's skeptical look, he added "Really. It's fine."

"Newt-"

"We go through this every other day, Minho. Stop worrying about me."

Minho chose not to respond, rather he leaned in for a soft kiss. Newt accepted the gesture immediately, tilting his head up and wrapping his good leg around Minho to pull him closer. One hand curled itself into Minho's hair while the other snaked up his shirt.

Newt was so sweet and addicting; every so often he'd let out a breathy moan and it took every ounce of Minho's self-control not to drag him to the bedroom right there and then. In fact, that was a great idea. Newt's tongue traced Minho's upper lip, seeking an entrance. Definitely the best idea he's had all night.

He scooped Newt up again, his fingers tight and hot on the blonde's ass. He stumbled through the kitchen, trying not to slam into anything, his lips preoccupied all the while. The air around them was thick, like they couldn't move through it fast enough. Newt was nipping at Minho's neck and trying to undo his jeans at the same time and the sensation of it nearly made Minho collapse.

Suddenly, a loud noise jolted the two of them back to their senses. The soup in the pot was nearly bubbling over and the lid was rattling like crazy.

Newt detangled himself from Minho sheepishly, looking positively intoxicating with his rumpled hair and red lips. "Mmm, ignore it," Minho begged, tugging at the blonde' waist.

"I can't Minho. It's going to be ruined."

"It's already ruined," the Asian said, splaying his fingers across his boyfriend's hip. "Just turn the stove off and we can get back to-mmpph."

Newt had interrupted him with a quick and much too chaste kiss. "Sorry, love."

Minho groaned. "So now I have to eat ruined food _and_ I can't even take you to bed. You're such a tease."

"Need I remind you, this is your fault."

" _You_ asked me to give you a hand. That's exactly what I was planning on doing," Minho replied with a suggestive wink.

"You're bloody impossible," Newt sighed.

"You're sexy."

"Out of the kitchen."

"I love you."

" _Goodbye_."

"Do you love me too?"

…

"Ouch."

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 **Hope you enjoyed! Favorites and reviews are always much appreciated!**


	4. Tradition

**Hi guys! So this picks up shortly after the last chapter! It ended up going a completely different direction than I originally anticipated, but nevertheless enjoy!**

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"Absolutely not," called Minho from his and Newt's shared bathroom.

"What's wrong with it?" Came the impatient reply. Minho had been trying on shirts for at least half an hour, which made them at least half an hour late to his family's Christmas celebration.

"It doesn't fit right!"

"Can I see?" Newt asked as he padded into the bathroom.

"No way," Minho exclaimed, shoving his boyfriend back into the bedroom.

"What was wrong with the green one you tried on earlier?" Newt asked, getting comfortable in the big reading chair.

"It looked like I was trying too hard!"

"Why does it matter?"

Minho poked his head around the door. "I don't want your family to hate me."

"They don't hate you-" Newt started but was cut off by Minho's expectant look. "Well, wearing a nice shirt won't change anything. Being any more late will."

"Toss me the blue one again," Minho requested, pointing at one of the many discarded shirts on the bed.

Newt aimed it at Minho's face. "Why do you care so much whether they like you or not."

"Because," Minho replied, heading back into the bathroom. "They flew eight hours to see you and this is my chance to make a good impression on them."

"Minho, they'll come around eventually."

"You've said that for the last three years."

"Exactly. Eventually. Maybe now's the year. But only if you _hurry the fuck up_."

"No need to get snappy," Minho said teasingly. "What do you think of this shirt?"

"It looks great."

"I wasn't even out of the bathroom yet!"

"I saw it ten minutes ago! _Please_ can you keep your clothes on for five minutes? Can we go now?"

"Should I add a vest or is that too gay?"

"Minho, you _are_ gay." Newt deadpanned.

"Probably why your parents don't like me," Minho muttered, browsing through his jacket collection.

Newt groaned. "They don't like you because you're bossy and sarcastic. Which you are, don't even try to argue."

"Then help me be…not that. One evening."

"I don't know if that's possible." At Minho's heartbroken face, he added, "but I'll try."

They arrived exactly an hour late. This year, the celebration was being held at Newt's sister's house. It was large enough to hold the growing Wright family, and Sonya was all too happy to host.

"Don't be nervous," said Newt as he turned off the car. He leaned over to give Minho a chaste peck. "You look great, Min."

"I'm not nervous," snapped Minho.

"Yes you are," replied Newt.

Minho groaned before shoving open the door and slamming it once he was out.

"Very mature," said Newt sarcastically as he got out of the car as well.

"Whatever. Get the vegetable tray and let's go."

"We haven't even gotten inside and you're already bossy," Newt said fondly, ruffling Minho's hair.

The other man groaned and reached to fix it. "I spent an hour on my hair," he complained.

"Woah, look at that. It seems we're an hour late," replied Newt, looking at his watch in mock-surprise.

"You're the one with a sarcasm problem," grumbled Minho, following Newt inside.

"I was wondering if you'd ever show up," Newt's mother said immediately upon their arrival.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I couldn't decide what to wear," replied her son. Minho opened his mouth as if to say something, but Newt pinched his side as a warning.

"That's alright, dear. You both look lovely." She leaned in to give both of them a warm hug, much to Minho's surprise. "And you actually brought food this year!"

"Of course," Newt said with a chuckle. "Minho did most of the work, I just carried it in."

"That's so sweet of you, dear," she said to Minho, taking the tray out of Newt's hands. "Go ahead in and say hi to everyone."

"What are you trying to pull," Minho hissed into Newt's ear as they made their way to the kitchen.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Newt replied innocently.

"Taking the blame for us being late? Giving me credit for making the tray when you know I wouldn't touch those vegetables to save my life? Why?"

"I'm making them like you."

"I don't want your help. I want to do it on my own."

Newt stopped Minho with a gentle hand to his chest. "You're right. I shouldn't have-"

"I _love_ that you did," Minho said, cutting him off. "But I need to do the rest on my own." He leaned in to press a kiss to his boyfriend's temple.

"Newt!" Sonya called, bustling into the hallway. The blonde moved to hug her but received a playful slap instead.

"What the bloody hell was that for?"

"You live twenty minutes away and I never see you!"

"I'm sorry, Sonny. Really. We've just been-"

"Really busy. Yeah yeah, save it." She brushed off Newt's apology and moved to hug Minho.

"What a warm welcome," Newt said sarcastically, leaving the pair in search for food.

He had just finished loading his plate when Minho caught up to him.

"I was wondering where you went." The Asian snaked his arms around Newt, careful to remain PG-13 around given the company.

"Food, obviously," the blonde said, motioning at his plate.

"Ah, let me grab a plate. Join you in the living room?"

The blonde hummed and ducked out of Minho's arms. He made his way through the house, making small talk with his more distant relatives, before settling down beside his father on the couch.

Though they hadn't seen each other in person in an entire year, no warmth was lost in that time. His father pulled him into a big hug before launching into his usual barrage of questions. Ironically, they had just gotten to the touchy subject of Newt's boyfriend when the devil himself finally joined them.

"Nice to see you again, Mr. Wright." Minho said politely, reaching to shake the older man's hand.

"And you, Minho," Newt's father replied, though his tone was less than sincere.

"So, uh, how-how have you been?" Minho stuttered.

Unseen by his father, Newt slid a hand onto his boyfriend's thigh to calm him.

"I've been better," came the harsh reply. "Tell me, are you still working at Target?"

"No, sir. That was just a temporary job. I actually got a position with the local police agency."

Newt's father cocked an eyebrow, though whether out of suspicion or impression was yet to be determined. "A police officer?"

"Yeah, I'm finishing up training right now."

"Hmm," was the only reply. "Do you mind if I ask you a personal question, Minho?"

"No, sir."

"Do you ever intend to propose to my son or are you planning on stringing him along for another few years?"

Newt nearly spit out the food in his mouth. He quickly swallowed it before saying, "Dad, no."

"It's alright," Minho said, significantly calmer than his sputtering boyfriend. "I do intend to propose to him." He gave Newt a meaningful look. "Very very soon."

Newt's breath hitched in his throat. Though he'd suspected it for quite some time, marriage was never something they'd really discussed. Hearing Minho say it aloud, to his father no less, made him so filled with emotion. The sensation of it was enough to take his breath away, Minho rubbing small circles into his back certainly didn't help.

"Can we have a moment?" Newt rushed out once he regained his senses. He didn't wait for his father's answer before pulling Minho to his feet. He dragged the other man to the closest empty room he could find, which happened to be the bathroom.

"What the hell was that for?" Minho asked as he shut the door.

In response, Newt captured Minho's lips in his. The kiss was deep and slow, filled with a loving patience they didn't often have. His hands found themselves in Minho's perfect hair and he sighed into the kiss.

"I love you, Min." He said when they finally pulled apart, breathless.

"I know," Minho said, sprinkling kisses along Newt's jawline. "You only tell me every day."

"What, you're not going to say it back?" Newt responded teasingly, his fingers trailing across Minho's cheek.

"You know I love you too. Every single day of my life it's all I do."

"You sap."

"I promise I'll give you a better proposal later."

"Damn right you will, we're in my sister's bathroom."

"I'll give you anything you want. But Newt, I can't imagine going a day without you. You're the reason I am who I am. And yeah, I'm bossy and sarcastic but I'd go to hell and back for you. Will you marry me?"

"Yes." Newt said, pulling Minho back in for another kiss. "Yes, of course."

"Is bathroom sex an option?" Minho asked finally.

"You know, on any other occasion I'd say yes, but something tells me my entire family is standing right outside this door."

As always, Newt was not wrong.


	5. Gifts

**Hi guys! This takes place shortly after the last chapter! Enjoy!**

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"This is a stupid idea," Minho groaned as he and Thomas navigated the Walmart shelves. "A really stupid idea."

"We do this every year," his friend reminded him. "Besides, you only think it's stupid because you got Newt this time."

"That's because I have no clue what to get him!"

"You've been dating him for three years," exclaimed Thomas incredulously.

"And I never know what to get him! Wait, hold on! What about this?" Minho asked, pointing at the shelf behind him.

"A water bottle?" Thomas asked in disbelief. "Yeah yeah, great idea. It really shows a lot of thought."

Minho groaned, "Well I'm out of ideas."

"You had _one_ idea."

"Yep, I'm fresh out."

"What does Newt even see in you?"

"I'm handsome and funny," Minho replied without a moment of hesitation.

"And arrogant," Thomas muttered under his breath as he steered the two in a different direction.

" _Hey!_ I heard that!"

"Ok, ok, what if you get him something meaningful?" The brunette asked Minho a few aisles down.

"For less than twenty dollars?" Minho asked incredulously.

"You're hopeless. Luckily, you have the best friend in the entire world, I know exactly what you're getting him."

"I swear to god, Thomas, I love you."

"After this, he's going to love you too. Or, erm, more."

In typical Minho and Newt fashion, the pair arrived thirty minutes late to the gathering. This time, surprisingly, it was Newt's fault. The blonde had insisted on making cookies ('you can't show up to a party emptyhanded!') but had accidentally burnt the first batch while he was wrapping his Secret Santa gift for Teresa. And, being the stubborn person he was, he refused Minho's offer to swing by the grocery store to pick up some and insisted, rather, on rebaking and redecorating another batch.

Though the end result was certainly beautiful (and delicious, Minho would know, he stole a few when Newt wasn't looking), it didn't make up for Brenda's anger at their tardiness. Upon their arrival, she quickly took the cookies out of Newt's hands, all the while chastising them about time management.

Luckily, no one else in the group seemed to care. Teresa immediately pulled them both into a bear hug as they entered the foyer, gifts in tow, quickly followed by Thomas. Alby gave them a nod from his place next to the fire where he was conversing in low tones with Gally.

"What's up, guys?" Frypan exclaimed as he clapped them both on the back. "I haven't seen either of you in forever."

"Well we're here now," Newt responded lightly. "Did we miss anything?"

"Nah, you guys are fine. We're still waiting on Chuck and Aris anyway."

"They're both later than us? Really?" Newt asked, taken aback.

"Unfortunately for you losers, no." Said Brenda, coming out of the kitchen. "We sent them on a cookie run. And yes, I realize now that wasn't necessary but we wouldn't have had to if you guys had been on time."

"Yeah, yeah, _mom_. We knew you wouldn't have started without us anyway." Minho said, pulling Brenda into a tight hug. He'd met her before he'd even met Newt or Thomas and to this day considered her one of his best friends.

"Pull a stunt like this again and maybe next time we will," she responded teasingly, pinching him in the side.

"Whoa, hey! If you're going to inflict pain on anyone, it should be blondie here. He's the reason we're late!" Minho responded, throwing his hands up in defense.

"We both know that's not true," she said, ruffling Newt's hair as she went to join the rest of the group in the living room.

"I'm going to get you back for this," Minho hissed into Newt's ear. "Just watch."

"You'll have to catch me first," the blonde responded jokingly, ducking out of Minho's grasp.

Minho growled, "Is that a challenge?"

"One you'll inevitably lose," Newt shot back coyly before slipping into the living room.

Minho chuckled to himself before following his boyfriend and finding a seat on the small couch next to Thomas.

"Did it come out okay," Thomas asked when Minho joined him, nodding at the gift Minho held.

"Perfect, thanks man. I owe you one."

Thomas scoffed, "you owe me, like, twenty at this point. I've given up counting."

"We could…start with a blank slate?"

"Nope, you're not getting out of this. Teresa wants me to go see the new art exhibit downtown-"

"Ugh," Minho interjected.

"My thoughts exactly. So you are going to come with us. Bring Newt, he'd enjoy it."

Minho groaned but agreed nevertheless. Thomas was the one who had gotten him and Newt together after all, there was no way he'd ever be able to repay that. He shot a glance at his boyfriend, who was curled up next to Teresa, a mug of cocoa in his hands and a radiant smile on his face. The warmth of it was contagious, infecting everybody in the room, even if they didn't notice it. How Newt ever thought his friends would survive without him, Minho didn't know. Newt had always been, and will continue to be, Minho's reason for living.

"Finally," Brenda exclaimed, snapping Minho out of his trance. She jumped out of her chair and made her way to the door, where Aris and Chuck were just kicking off their snowy boots.

"Perfect," she said, grabbing the bag of cookies from Aris and scampering off to the kitchen.

"Would it hurt her to slow down for five minutes," Frypan asked.

"It'd probably kill her," replied Aris, who was shrugging off his coat.

"Hurry up!" Called Brenda, as she returned to the living room. She shot the two new arrivals an impatient look.

"That excited to see your gift?" Asked Gally with a chuckle.

She threw a cushion at his head, "like you aren't. Are we ready now?" She didn't wait for their agreement, but rather pulled out a hat from under the tree. "Ok, I put all of your names in here. We'll just go in order of opening the gifts with the names I draw, yeah? Oh and put your presents over here before everyone figures out whose is whose."

They all rolled their eyes at her fondly but did as she asked nevertheless. Minho, who had hid his real gift inside a larger bag, quickly withdrew it and set it under the tree alongside everybody else when he was certain Newt wasn't looking.

After everyone did as Brenda asked, Newt joined Minho on the couch, shoving a not-too-happy Thomas to the floor ('hey, you don't get priority seats just because you're engaged!') Which, of course, caused a stir because the couple had failed to tell the rest of the group ('it's because we're not really engaged. Like, we are, but it's not official!'). Only after another ten minutes (Chuck had to use the bathroom and Newt's cookies caused yet another stir) was Brenda able to get the group under control again

Teresa was the first one to open her present and was delighted by the tasteful wine Newt had chosen for her. As expected, Newt had once again gone a little (ok, a lot) over the price range but everyone knew it was Teresa's favorite and therefore didn't say anything about it. Or maybe it was the way his face lit up when she hugged him. Either way, the moment was so sweet that not even Gally had any harsh comments to add.

Next up was Chuck, who was surprised to unwrap a brick with a twenty dollar bill taped to it. That one was easy to trace back to Gally, who was attempting and failing at an innocent expression. Brenda and Aris humorously had gotten each other but were both very pleased with their gifts. Of the group, they were two that would definitely be counted on to get something special and neither of them failed to deliver. Brenda gifted him a locked with a picture of Rachel in it, his girlfriend who was serving overseas right now. She'd received from Aris the collection of Walt Whitman poems she'd been fawning over for months on end.

Minho was up next. His gift was unceremoniously wrapped in a Kroger bag. He only knew of two people who would do that and one had already given his gift. Inside, though, was a surprisingly nice Christmas sweater. He tugged on the blue sweater over his T-shirt and gave Alby a nod in thanks.

Alby, in turn, received a gift card to a video game store from Chuck, which they all know he'd make use out of in no time. Frypan, predictably, gleefully received a new pan from Teresa ('it holds twice as much as any other pan this size!') and Thomas, who had slaved over his gift for Gally, was pleasantly surprised when the other man unwrapped the tool set with an impressed look on his face. Frypan gave Thomas new running shorts and ignored the other man's protest that he couldn't even wear them until summer. Nevertheless, Thomas, like everyone before him, was appreciative of his gift.

As luck would have it, of course, Newt was the last one to go. He'd probably already deduced who his gift was from, seeing as Minho was the only one left, but played the guessing game nonetheless. He peeled open the poorly wrapped gift carefully to find a hardback book with a blank cover.

He gave Minho a questioning look before opening it, then his face changed immediately. A sort of awe crossed his features, the kind that you get when you're so in love it hurts. Across the pages of the book were pictures of the two of them, starting with their first date and spanning through to their kind-of engagement.

The album had everything, even photos Newt didn't even know were taken. There was a picture of the night they'd broken up, both of their faces twisted in a mix of love and fury. There was one shortly after they'd gotten back together, their foreheads pressed together and eyelids half closed. There was a picture of Newt in the hospital, his left leg painfully wrapped and one where Minho gently helped him come home. Their entire relationship was documented in this album, both the highs and the lows.

"I don't know what to say," Newt said after he'd flipped through the album. Twice. The girls and Frypan, who had crowded around them to look were in tears. Even Alby, the most emotionally reserved of the group, looked touched.

"I thought you deserved something special. Thomas, here, thought I should get you a water bottle." Minho kicked the indignant Thomas in the back when he protested. What Newt didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

"Thank you, Min" Newt said, pulling his boyfriend in for a kiss. "Thank you so much."

"Nah," responded Minho when they separated, breathless. "It's not that much-"

"It's perfect."


	6. Cold

**So, in my Minewt universe, this is their first meeting (alluded to in Chapter 1). Enjoy!**

 _The day we met,  
Frozen I held my breath  
Right from the start  
I knew that I'd found a home for my heart..._

 _(Christina Perri, A Thousand Years Part 2_

"I think this class might actually kill me," Minho complained to an annoyed Thomas.

"You've only been once," his friend replied incredulously. "And it's already three weeks into the semester."

"Once was enough. I can feel the life being sucked out of me."

"You went on the first day," Thomas deadpanned. "When all you did was go over the syllabus."

Minho huffed, sending small clouds of breath into the chilly February air. "Well I'm going today, aren't I?"

"Only because I'm forcing you to."

"You suck."

"Love you too," Thomas replied with a grin before heading off in a different direction for his physics class.

Minho groaned to himself, wondering if his friend would be able to tell he skipped. Probably, since their classes ended at the same time and Thomas would be there right after to pester him about it. Minho wasn't exaggerating when he said this class was some twisted 21st century form of torture. The professor, Dr. Becker, was horridly dry lecturer. She had assigned the class a variety of readings, which made sense since it was a literature class, but all of them were as difficult and bland as possible. Not that Minho had actually read any of them, but if the covers were anything to show for the rest of the book he didn't wasn't going to.

The only upside to this class was the fact that he could duck out of the cold for eighty minutes. Granted, he could do that in his bedroom too, but Thomas refused to budge on the fact that Minho needed to go to class. And he was probably right: he'd already missed four lectures and had no clue what to do for the upcoming paper.

Once inside, he found a seat near the back of the room and shrugged off his coat. He pulled out a notebook but nevertheless remained glued to his phone. It read 11:04 AM. Great. 86 minutes to go.

Suddenly, someone, or rather someone's backpack, hit him hard in the shoulder. "Ouch," he exclaimed, looking up to find the culprit. It was a sheepish looking guy who'd taken the seat next to him. And he was incredibly attractive, as much as Minho hated to admit it. He'd worn what seemed like thirty layers, but once he peeled most of them off he revealed his lanky yet muscular frame. His hair was a shaggy dirty blonde and his eyes were a rich brown.

"I'm so sorry," the blonde said when he noticed Minho's stare. He's _British_ too? Thank god Minho decided to show up today.

"Uh, no. It's fine," Minho responded, trying not to stutter. The blonde nodded and went back to pulling his books out. "I haven't seen you in here before," Minho blurted out.

The blonde chucked, "funnily enough, I haven't seen you either. Are you sure you've actually been here before, because I'd definitely remember a face like yours."

Minho was taken aback. Was this guy actually flirting with him or just making a joke? "I've only actually come to class once. I'm Minho by the way."

"Newt," said the other guy with a warm smile. "You haven't missed anything, by the way. We're still covering all the literary basics."

"Good to hear." Unfortunately, at that time Dr. Becker decided to start class. Which, Minho guessed, made sense considering it was officially class time. Which is why he was here, he reminded himself. Definitely not to flirt with the lanky blonde sitting next to him. He peeked a glance at Newt, who was copiously writing down every bland word to come out of the professor's mouth. His blonde hair hung over his eyes in an incredibly enticing manner.

 _Focus_ , Minho reprimanded himself. He needed to pass this class and to do so he needed to pay attention. What was she talking about? Allegories? What the heck are those? Maybe Newt wouldn't be opposed to giving him a hand. In many different ways.

"Minho?" Asked Newt in a low voice, snapping him out of his daydream. "Everything alright?"

In the background, Dr. Becker continued to drone on about literary devices.

"Just fine. I'm just not concentrating well today."

"I understand the feeling," Newt said with a sly grin before going back to his notes.

Minho checked his phone and sighed. It was only 11:45, which meant he still had forty-five minutes left of this ridiculously boring class. He risked another glance at Newt. How was this guy so focused? How was Minho so _not_ focused?

Time seemed to, if anything, slow down. Minho looked down at his blank notebook. Now's a good a time as any to begin taking notes. What was the professor talking about? Anecdotes. Yes, he remembered learning something about those. In high school English. Two years ago. Which is why he needs to pay attention.

"We get the word 'anecdote' from the Greek Byzantine period. This took place from 527 to 565 A.D., under the reign of the emperor Justininan. In his court…"

Would it be inappropriate to leave twenty minutes before class was over? Minho didn't know if he could bear Dr. Becker talking about ancient writers any longer. Newt, next to him, was carefully writing down every word out of the professor's mouth in neat print. His brow was furrowed and he was biting his lip to concentrate.

That's it! Minho would just blame Newt for his inability to focus. Newt and his chocolate brown eyes that crinkled at the corner when he smiled. Newt and the distracting way he'd run his fingers through his hair every few minutes. It was all Newt's fault.

Then, suddenly, Newt wasn't writing anymore. He was packing his bag and wrapping himself back up in all thirty layers.

Minho scrambled to put away his barely-used notebook as well. When he was done, he was pleased to see that Newt hadn't left yet.

"Do you actually find this stuff interesting?" He asked as they made their way out of the room together.

Newt chuckled, "I don't think the professor even finds it interesting."

"You take good notes though," hoping his observation wouldn't be received as unusual.

"I have to. I need bloody amazing scores to stay here."

"What do you mean?"

"I just transferred this semester," Newt said, pushing open the door to the building and exposing them to winter's fury. "My parents weren't keen on the idea but I really wanted to study in the States. If I don't do ridiculously well they'll force me to move back to home."

"They can't make you, though. Right?"

"Of course not. _But_ they are paying for me and they don't have to do that."

Minho nodded. "How are you liking it so far? America, I mean."

"It's great," the blonde said, adjusting his scarf. "I love the culture and the food. The people are great too," he added, giving Minho a meaningful look. "But, hey, I gotta run. My next class starts in, well shit, one minute. I'll see you next time, though?"

"Yeah, of course," Minho replied automatically. The blonde gave him a large grin before hurrying off in the opposite direction.

"Who was that?" Asked Thomas, coming from behind Minho. "And why the hell are you smiling so creepily?"

"No one," responded Minho, a little too quickly. "Just someone I met in class."

"So you survived then?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I did."

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

 **a/n: Do me a solid and, if you liked it, hit that favorite button! Even better, leave me a quick review, they mean the world to me! Hope you enjoyed!**


	7. Lights

Decorating for Christmas was a very big ordeal for Minho and Newt. Well, mostly Newt, but Minho found it endearing enough to play along. Every year they tried to outdo themselves with bigger decorations, brighter colors, and a bolder display. This proved to be somewhat of a challenge, given that they still lived in Minho's apartment and couldn't decorate the entire building (Newt had tried though, multiple times). Even so, their flat was decked from ceiling to floor in holiday spirit. Tinsel ran the length of the hallway and added a shimmer of beauty in each room. Mistletoe, too, hung from each doorway (although that was more of an excuse to make out at any given moment).

In the month of December, Newt was never seen not wearing one of his many festive sweaters and a bright smile. As always, he'd spread happiness to those around him just from his positive aura. Therefore Minho, who saw Newt the most, was almost equally as cheerful during the holiday season.

Except today. Today he had been given the task to find a tree. And in typical Newt fashion, it couldn't be a plastic tree from the sale rack at Walmart. No, he insisted Minho go and get a real tree. And, since Newt had a meeting at work and couldn't come along today, Minho was given the additional pressure of finding the perfect tree _alone_.

Surprisingly, though, finding the tree was the easy part. Attaching it to his car, driving it through the streets of Chicago, and lugging it into the building was the hard part. Damn Newt and his idea of a perfect, traditional Christmas.

 _And_ it was just his luck that the tree didn't fit in the elevator. Nope, he had to lug that baby up four flights of stairs. If he made it back to their apartment alive he was going to kill Newt.

"Did you get the tree?" Newt called from inside when Minho shoved the door open.

"You know," Minho said, completely winded. "That's something you could have asked half an hour ago. And then you could've proceeded to help me carry the damn thing all the way up."

"Oh god, I'm sorry," Newt said, coming out of the bedroom. "I wasn't thinking."

"I didn't know you were capable of that anyway," Minho responded jokingly. "I also didn't know you'd be back yet."

"Yeah, we got out early."

"Well, do you want to get this monster of a tree set up? Please tell me you baked cookies."

"They're in the oven as we speak," Newt said with a fond grin. "And I got the ornaments out already."

"Perfect."

Once they got the tree upright and even, which proved to be much more difficult than they'd have thought, they set about draping the colorful lights on it. This also was somewhat of a challenge since Minho was too impatient to do it well and Newt required that he redo his side multiple times. What was that he was saying earlier about Newt a slow, torturous death? Shh, it's only illegal if he _actually_ does it, which he wouldn't. Newt makes the best cookies.

When they _finally_ finished, Minho let his boyfriend ceremoniously hang the first ornament. This was also a big deal for Newt. Each year they (read:he) picked out a dazzling new one to hang on the tree and it always got the best spot on the tree. Minho generally hung a few of his favorite ornaments but let Newt do the rest of the decorating. Partially because he was lazy but mostly because Newt was so particular about the way the tree looked. Not that Minho minded, it did end up looking fantastic each year.

At the end of the _very long_ process came the lighting, naturally. Years ago Minho had wired the lights to a remote control so that all they'd have to do was press one button.

"Do you want to do it this year," Newt offered.

"Are you actually letting me do the honors?" Minho said in (mostly) mock surprise.

The blonde laughed, "of course not. I just thought I'd be nice."

He gave Minho a quick peck before pressing the button and bringing the tree to life.

"You did a great job, as always," Minho murmured into Newt's hair.

Newt hummed back and turned to face his boyfriend. "Thanks."

"Merry Christmas."

"Christmas is still two weeks away."

"Just shut up and kiss me."

For once in his life, Newt did as he was told.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 **a/n: Hope you enjoyed! This chapter was a pain to write and it didn't turn out as well as I would've liked but I'm already falling behind on the 12 days challenge. Just to do some shameless promo, if you're interested you can find me on tumblr.**


	8. Music

Minho heard it as soon as he opened the door. It was a slow, melodical tune coming that echoed through their apartment. It vaguely reminded Minho of the night Newt had broken in in the middle of the night so long ago. But this was different. The music he heard seemed to have a life of its own. It danced through the hall and weaved itself through the air. Minho, enthralled, followed the melody to his bedroom, where it seemed to be originating.

He pushed the door open slowly, careful not to scare it away. What he found was, perhaps, even more delicate. Newt sat on the edge of their bed, facing away from the door. In the crook of his neck sat a violin, which he played with ease. The bow, which rested lightly between the fingers of his right hand, seemed to move on its own accord with a lightness and a grace Minho had never before witnessed. Newt, himself, seemed lost in the music, swaying along with it gently.

Minho was awestruck. How did he not know Newt played? And not only did he play, he was incredible. Why would he keep such a talent from Minho, from everybody?

Newt finished the song and Minho froze, terrified he'd be caught. Minho only relaxed after the blonde resumed playing, a slower, more melancholy song. It wasn't that watching his boyfriend play violin was a crime, but he wasn't sure how said boyfriend would react. Would he be angry that Minho had intruded on his personal time since clearly this wanted to keep private? Which lead to the question of what to do now? Should he interrupt Newt? Leave and come back a few hours later? Wait in the living room and act as if he never heard?

As luck would have it, that decision was made for him. Newt stopped playing mid-song and gently placed his instrument on the bed. He got up, stretched, and turned to face a very startled Minho.

"Oh. Hey. I, um, didn't hear you come back," Newt stammered.

"Uh, yeah. I just got back. Like a minute ago." Minho responded, equally uncomfortable. "But I can leave."

"No, it's ok. Stay."

They paused, gazing at each other with similarly guilty expressions. The stalemate continued until Newt broke the silence with a cough.

"I was, uh, just finishing up."

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Minho blurted out.

"It never came up for the longest time and then it got to a point where I thought if I told you now it'd be like I deliberately was not telling you. And then I _actually_ was deliberately not telling you and yeah."

"I'm not angry. I'm actually amazed. You're incredible."

"Thanks," Newt said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Minho chuckled, "Don't tell me you're actually secretly Spiderman too."

"If anyone would be into all that vigilante save-the-day hero shit, it'd be you."

"How do you know I'm not?" Minho asked, approaching Newt slowly. "How do you know that every night, after you're asleep, I don't go out and save the world?"

"I guess I don't," the blonde said with a laugh. "I suppose I'm just trusting you to keep me in the loop."

"It took over three years for you to tell me you're a musical prodigy," Minho pointed out, wrapping one arm around Newt's waist.

Newt shrugged. "I wouldn't call myself a _prodigy_ , per say. Sensation, sure, but prodigy is pushing it."

Minho hummed and pressed a kiss to Newt's temple. "Whatever you are, I'm keeping you around."

"And if I want to leave?" Newt asked teasingly, responding with a kiss to Minho's nose.

"Who said you had a say in the matter?" Minho replied, his voice low and husky near Newt's ear.

"Hmm, I could probably get a restraining order against you."

"Would you though?" Minho didn't wait for an answer, rather he leaned in to capture the blonde's lips in his. There was a fleeting moment where it was sweet and slow but it quickly became very rough and passionate. He curled his finger into Newt's soft hair and, with a grunt, lifted the lighter man onto the bed. Newt let out a soft noise of surprise but didn't object as Minho pushed him down. All Minho could taste was Newt. Newt and the cookies he hid where he thought Minho couldn't find them. The blonde ran his hands up Minho's chest, pushing his shirt up as he went. Minho pulled away briefly to tug his shirt off completely, but returned by pressing open-mouthed kisses along Newt's jawbone.

The blonde arched into the sensation, his fingers running across the exposed skin and his hips rolling up to meet Minho's. The feel of it nearly had Minho collapse and he responded by eagerly reclaiming Newt's mouth. He tugged at the blonde's shirt and Newt, getting the hint, pushed Minho out of the way in order to pull it off completely.

Unfortunately, the motion caused Newt's forgotten violin tumble off the bed entirely. The two jumped up at the sound, their previous activities forgotten.

"Shit," Newt said, springing off the bed to assess the damage.

"Is it broken?" Minho asked, concerned.

The blonde shook his head. "Thankfully, no."

"Mmm, so why don't you put it away and get back up here?"

Newt gave him a look that said 'I'm thoroughly disappointed in you' to which Minho rolled his eyes.

"I was just kidding. Well, mostly."

The blonde tucked the instrument safely inside its case before turning to face Minho, hands on his hips. "I've had this thing for _years_ with absolutely no issues. And the very first day you see it, it nearly gets broken. I don't think that's a bloody coincidence."

Minho shrugged, "You can't blame me for being irresistible."

"I can and I will."

"You're being ridiculous," the Asian said with a huff.

" _You're_ the one who's pouting because his boyfriend won't put out."

"Ew, don't call it that."

"I can and I will."

Minho threw his hands up, "absolutely ridiculous."

"I'll make you a deal," Newt said, his face a breath away from Minho's. "If you do the laundry this week, we can continue making some music of our own."

"…fine. But don't call it that either."


	9. Fire

_Let's start over.  
I'll try to do it right this time around.  
It's not over.  
'Cause a part of me is dead and in the ground.  
This love is killing me,  
But you're the only one.  
It's not over.  
(Daughtry, It's not over)_

It always started as an accident: an offhanded comment made when the other was in a shitty mood or a snarky retort that went too far. And normally the two were able to take a moment to breathe and recover as if nothing had happened, but sometimes it just blew up. Time like this were the ones that left Newt curled on the couch, clutching a handful of tear-soaked tissues that no longer helped wipe the ones on his face.

He didn't even remember what they had fought about this time, which made their unresolved anger seem even less sensible. He was pretty sure that Minho was hiding out in their bedroom, limbs tangled into tight knots, trying to decide whether or not to sacrifice his pride and apologize. Not that Newt was doing anything different.

But this time Minho had really hurt him. They always tease each other with insults and spiteful comments but that was always done in good fun. This was different, though. Whenever they fought, they'd be careful to tiptoe around sensitive topics. No matter how angry, hurting the other where it would cut the deepest was out of the question. It was how they worked. Until now.

 _I hate you._

He buried his head into a cushion as another sob ripped through him. Would it be better to let Minho hear? Or would that just make him angrier? How very cruel it was that the only person that could piece him back together was the very one who had broken him in the first place. That the one who could make his heart soar could also drive a stake into it. It would be so much easier not to feel.

It had been years since Newt had last found himself this low, this empty. Afterwards, Minho had worked tirelessly to help Newt get better. To help him feel okay. No wonder Minho feels this way. He's right. Newt was a burden. A liability. A ticking time-bomb that needed someone to guard the trigger.

 _I hate you. I hate you._

He stifled another sob and tried, unsuccessfully, to blink his tears away. He was suddenly angry. With himself, with Minho, with the world. Fucking Minho and his constant, cruel humor. Always pushing it too far. It wasn't fair. He _knew_ Newt. He _knew_ just how to hurt him and did just that. He directed his anger at himself, feeling guilty even now for thinking mean things about the man he loved. It was his fault for being so bloody sensitive anyway. How could he blame Minho for being human when he himself was less than that? He'd never been able to control his emotions. Why was he like this? Why was he so bloody fucked up?

 _Leave me alone_.

He didn't see an end to this. There was no way to win, not that he deserved that anyway. Leaving would just cause them both more pain, but staying was no better. Not when they were both too caught up in their internal battles to resolve anything. Not after everything that was said.

He just wanted to sleep. Since Minho had claimed the bedroom as his own, Newt spread out on the couch and tried to silence the stream of emotions in his head. It took a very long time.

When he woke up two hours later, a blanket had been draped over him as if he were in some cheesy romantic movie. His head ached with a pain worse than any hangover. He pulled himself into a sitting position, rubbing his throbbing skull. Only after his headache died down did he look up to see Minho sprawled out in the loveseat.

"Hey," Minho said shyly when he noticed Newt's gaze on him.

"Hi." The air was thick with unresolved tension. Newt scratched his arm, trying to avoid making eye contact with Minho.

After a long minute, the other man swallowed loudly. "Would you accept an apology?"

"Would you, if you were me?" Newt shot back, though without heat. The last thing he wanted was to start another fight.

"No," Minho said with a sigh. "I wouldn't."

Newt's heart ached worse than before, if that was even possible. It would be so easy to forgive Minho and act as if this had never happened. But he wasn't ready to forgive him, not yet. As unreasonable as it was, he wasn't ready to give up his anger.

"I didn't mean it. And I know that's exactly what you'd expect to hear but not really what you want. But it's true, I-"

"That's just the thing, Minho," Newt said, his anger bubbling to the surface. "I _know_ you didn't mean it. I'm not upset because I think you meant it. If I did I wouldn't still be here. I'm upset, no, I'm _angry_ because you said it with the intent to hurt me."

Minho ran a hand through his hair and let out a shaky breath. "Newt, I-"

"Or maybe you did mean it. Because I never thought, no matter how angry you were, that you'd hurt me like that."

"I-"

"I really don't want to hear some lame excuse. I know you were just angry or you weren't thinking. I get it. But that doesn't change the fact that you said it."

"What will then?"

"I don't know. Time?"

"Tell me what to do. If you need space, I can give you that. Whatever you need."

"I don't know," Newt repeated.

The other man nodded solemnly and sunk back into the chair. He looked distraught, rightly so. The clock behind him read four o'clock and Newt could tell he hadn't gotten any sleep.

"Why did you say it?" He asked suddenly, though not entirely sure he wanted the answer. "I mean, you've been angry before. What made this fight different?"

"I don't know," Minho echoed Newt's earlier sentiment. "I just sort of…snapped. I wasn't thinking about what I was saying, not really. I was being selfish. It wasn't about us or even me. It was about winning."

"Do you- do you remember what we were fighting about?"

"That's just the thing. I don't. I've tried to, really. I've racked every corner of my, admittedly small, brain. What was it?"

"I don't remember either," Newt confessed. They shared a comfortable laugh before remembering their situation.

Newt let out a long sigh. His next words sunk to the bottom of his heart like rocks. "I guess I just don't know if I can trust you not to hurt me again."

"That's fair. Right now, I don't really trust myself either."

"We're not…giving up, are we?" Newt said, vocalizing the question they both were thinking.

Minho got up and approached the couch slowly, as if trying not to scare Newt away. He sank down at the far end, putting distance between the two. "I don't want to give up. Not now, not ever. Because I love you. Newt, god, I love you so much. I don't think I can live without you, honestly. I screwed up, big time, but I'll spend every day trying to make it up to you."

A warm feeling rushed through Newt, something just minutes ago he thought he'd never feel again. He reached over and covered Minho's hand in his. "You don't have to."

The other man looked up from his shaking hands. "What?"

"I forgive you. Mostly because I know you'll berate yourself for this for the rest of your life anyway. You don't need me to do it for you."

"I really want to argue that, but you've always known me better than I know myself."

"But Minho, I want you to forgive yourself too…eventually."

"How can I?"

Newt squeezed Minho's hand. "Because you have me."

 _I love you._


	10. Color

"Where are we going?" Newt asked with a whine. He was watching Minho run around the apartment with a wary expression. "What the bloody hell are you doing?"

"You'll see."

"But it's _cold_."

Minho paused his motions to press a kiss to Newt's forehead. "It's not even freezing outside. You'll survive."

"Well," the blonde said with a huff. "What if I _die_?"

Minho shrugged before scrambling into the kitchen, a thought having suddenly hit him.

"Don't act like you wouldn't care!" Newt shouted after him.

"Well," Minho said, popping his head out of the doorway. "It'd be a lot more quiet around here."

"If I recall correctly, which I definitely am, you were the one making a lot of noise last night. _Oh Newt. Oh yes, right there_ ," Newt teased in a mocking voice.

The other man huffed indignantly from the kitchen. "I don't sound like that."

"Mmhmm. Whatever you say."

"I like the sound of that," Minho said, emerging from the kitchen, a basket in tow.

Newt eyed it warily. "No way. We are _not_ going to picnic in this weather."

"We're not going picnicking. Just shut up and put on your coat."

"You're bossy."

"You're cute. Now come on."

Newt pestered Minho all the way to the car but to no avail. The other man refused to reveal his plans and, by the time they were buckled and ready to go, Newt was even more frustrated than before.

"I hate surprises," he said as they pulled out of the parking garage.

"You'll love this one."

"I hate you."

"I'm trying to do something nice for you and this is how you repay me?"

"I hate surprises and I _really_ hate you." He peered out the passenger seat window, trying to figure out where they were going. The buildings flew by and, although he knew the city well, he realized he was completely lost. He gave Minho a suspicious look but the other man looked convincingly innocent.

He gave up with a sigh, content with just listening to Minho hum along to the radio. This was surprisingly relaxing given the nagging curiosity in the back of his skull. Minho had such a nice voice anyway. It was a shame he didn't sing more. There's a lot of things they should do together more. Like this. Just driving and enjoying each other's company.

All of a sudden Minho was turning of the car and pulling his coat back on. Newt didn't even remember them stopping.

"Did I fall asleep?" He asked with an incriminating yawn.

"Don't worry about it; you look so soft when you sleep."

Newt chuckled shyly before getting out of the car himself. "You're so sappy today."

"Around you? Always."

The blonde snorted before turning to investigate their surroundings. They were in a parking garage much like the one they parked in at home. A few cars were on this level but it was, for the most part, pretty empty. And cold.

"Toss me my coat, will you?"

Minho did as asked before grabbing the mysterious basket from the backseat and locking the car.

" _Now_ will you tell me what we're doing?"

"Ok, I might have lied about the picnic," Minho said, reaching to take Newt's hand in his. "But trust me when I say it's no ordinary one."

Newt groaned but followed his boyfriend nonetheless.

"This is really romantic," the blonde wheezed as they climbed their third flight of stairs. If he survived this Minho definitely wouldn't.

"Shut up, we're almost there."

Minho wasn't kidding. As they reached the top layer of the garage, which was open to the cool night's air, they found a helicopter waiting for them.

"Ta-da."

Newt's eyes widened comically and he looked back and forth between Minho and the helicopter. "Are you serious?"

"Only if you want to."

"Absolutely!"

This time Newt pulled Minho along, nearly bursting with excitement. Once inside, he could barely focus on the pilot's safety instructions, his eyes kept wandering over the window. The view was incredible already and they hadn't even taken off yet.

"Newt?" He heard a voice next to him. He shot Minho a half-hearted thumbs up and continued to stare awestruck out of the window.

"Newt. We can't take off until you buckle."

He looked at the belt, suddenly embarrassed to have not been paying attention. Minho didn't seem to mind. He reached over and buckled Newt in like a little kid.

"Are we all set?" The pilot asked from the cockpit. He flipped a few switches and suddenly the rotors began spinning loudly.

The helicopter slowly ascended, revealing more and more of the beautiful city of Chicago. The skyline looked like something out of a dream. The city was decorated by beautiful, twinkling lights of all colors which were reflected spectacularly on the water.

"Wow," was all Newt's brain could come up with.

"No kidding."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, soaking in the view and listening to the rhythmic whirl of the rotors.

"Wine?" Minho asked suddenly.

"Uh, sure."

"It's in the basket. Could you get that for us?"

Newt looked down at the basket by his feet, wondering when that got there. Nevertheless, he picked it up and pulled open the lid carefully. What he found was even more beautiful than the city surrounding them.

In between the glasses and the wine bottle sat a white jewelry box. He reached for it carefully and opened it to see the most stunning ring he'd ever seen. It was a thin silver band with a row of diamonds crossing the center.

"I promised you a real engagement, didn't I?" Minho asked gently, snapping him out of his reverie.

"Minho, this is-"

"Wait, hold on. I prepared a speech. Oh, shuck, where'd it go?" He searched his pockets frantically before sighing. "Ok I'll just wing it. I knew there was something about you from the day we first met in that awful lit class. And you didn't give up on me despite my consistent whining and complaining. You got me through the class and so much after that. I know we've been through some rough patches, but the fact that we're sitting here today, more in love than ever before, means something. Newt, I don't want to go a single day without you, not one. And if you'll say yes, which you will if your face right now is any indication, I'll spend the rest of my life trying to show you how much I love you. Because I do. I love you, Newt. Always."

"You're such a hopeless romantic, Min. But you already know my answer. Yes, yes of course. I love you." Newt leaned over to kiss his (now official) fiancée.

"Didn't I tell you you'd love this surprise?" Minho asked as they pulled apart.

Newt hummed in agreement. "And I told you you'd be devastated if I died."

"True. As annoying as you are, I think I'll keep you around."

"Please, you couldn't get rid of me if you tried."

"I could push you out of the helicopter," Minho teased.

"But you wouldn't. You love me too much."

"It's true, I do," Minho said before pulling Newt in for another kiss.

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

 **a/n: Thanks for sticking with me! I'm awful at writing my stories daily! If you liked it so far, please hit that favorite button or write a review! They mean so much to me!**


	11. NaughtyNice

Everyone always assumed that, among the two, Newt was the innocent one. Which was fair, given his angelic looks and sweet disposition. But they couldn't be more wrong. So that left a very frustrated Minho trying to downplay a very drunk Newt at the Park family Christmas party.

To make matters worse, when Newt got drunk, he also got horny. And on any other occasion (trust me, _any_ other occasion) Minho would be totally fine with it, but his boyfriend was currently trying to grope him despite the entire family surrounding them.

The two were seated on the couch. Or rather, Minho was seated on the couch and Newt was curled up in his lap. Every so often he'd move in such a way that would roll his ass into Minho's groin. "Newt, stop it," he hissed. The blonde giggled and gave him an entirely unapologetic look.

"My mother is literally two seats away," he whispered into Newt's ear.

"So don't let on how turned on you are." With that, Newt pressed a hot kiss to Minho's jaw.

"That's it," Minho growled, pulling his fiancée up and dragging him to the kitchen

As soon as they were alone, Newt was all over the broader man. He resumed kissing along his jawline and rolled his hips into Minho's.

Minho let out a low grunt at the sensation, pulling their hips even closer together. "Couldn't wait till we got home, could you?"

The blonde let out a disagreeing noise, his lips never detaching from Minho's face.

"Come on, love," Minho said gently. "We should get back to the party."

"Or," Newt suggested devilishly. He slotted a leg between Minho's and whispered into his ear, "We could stay here. Finish what we started."

It took all of Minho's willpower to say no. "We really have to get back."

"Mmm, why?" The blonde asked, rolling their hips deliciously together again.

"B-because it's our first Christmas as an engaged couple," Minho stuttered. "We have to make a good impression on my family."

Newt didn't seem like he cared. He sneaked his fingers up Minho's shirt in an attempt to pull it off. "They won't mind us being gone for a few more minutes."

"A few minutes? How short do you think it'd take?"

The blonde gestured at Minho's steadily growing erection with a smirk. "Not long at all."

Minho huffed and detached himself from Newt, who groaned in frustration.

"Sorry, love." After quickly rearranging the uncomfortable tightness in his pants, he led Newt back into the family room.

They settled back into the still-vacant couch seat, Newt still wrapped around Minho tightly.

"We were wondering where you went," Minho's mother said from the armchair by the fireplace. "You didn't let your fiancée there have another drink, did you?"

Minho ruffled Newt's hair fondly, "Definitely not."

"Why not?" Newt whispered innocently in Minho's ear. He looked so fluffy and innocent that Minho almost felt bad for not letting him have his way. Almost.

"You know why not."

"Don't you love me?" Newt pouted.

Minho chuckled, "Of course I do, you shank."

"So when's the big day?" The question came from Minho's older cousin, Nari.

"We, uh, haven't decided yet," he said, speaking for both of them. Seeing as Newt was currently struggling to keep his eyes open, Minho figured he wouldn't mind.

"But are you thinking sometime soon?" Nari pressed.

Minho's mother, who was observing the couple with a warm smile added her own comment to the conversation. "They just announced it, there's no rush, right?"

"Exactly," Minho said, sending his mom a grateful smile. Luckily, Nari moved onto pestering her brother about bringing his girlfriend to the next family gathering. As much as he loved his family, he was glad they only met a few times a year. All of the Parks were as flamboyant and energetic as Minho himself, which meant that their celebrations were often just short of a disaster. Not that he minded, it was always great catching up with everyone, no matter how annoying and persistent they were. And he couldn't be happier to officially bring Newt into the family. His family.

A sharp poke brought him back to his senses. Newt was pinching his stomach, giggling all the while. "What's up, angel?"

"I love you. I _looovvvee_ you."

Minho chuckled and pressed a kiss to Newt's temple. "I love you too."

"Are you mad at me?" The blonde nuzzled his head into the crook of Minho's shoulder and squeezed the other man even tighter.

"Of course not. Should I be?" Minho teased.

Newt's head snapped up incredibly fast for someone on the verge of falling asleep. His eyes were impossibly wide and he shook his head repeatedly. "No! Don't be mad!" Then he curled back into Minho's chest, his worries already forgotten.

"I think it's time we head home," Minho announced to his family. He gestured to the blonde using him as a pillow. He gently picked Newt up and set him on his shaky feet.

At that, the whole family rose to their feet to wish them goodbye.

His parents were the last to talk to the couple and they had to fight off an ever persistent Nari to do so. "You'll visit more, right?" Minho's mother asked as his father clapped him on the back. He nodded and pulled her into a hug. "And congratulations, dear."

He rolled his eyes, as his role as a son dictated. "Thanks, mom."

She embraced Newt too, who at least seemed able to stand on his own now. "You take care of my son, right?"

The blonde giggled as Minho scoffed. "I'll keep an eye on him."

"He's the one needing a babysitter!" Minho objected. Both Newt and his mother hushed him. So this is what married life would be like. Oh joy.

After another round of hugs, the pair was finally able to escape into the cold, winter weather. Minho led Newt to their car with a firm arm around his waist.

"Wait," the blonde said as Minho tried to stuff him into the passenger seat. He wrapped his arms around the Asian in a tight hug. "Thank you."

"What for?" Minho asked, his head cocked. Then he added, suspiciously, "You're not trying to get me into bed again, are you?"

"Only in you want," Newt teased.

"Newt-" he warned. "You know how much I want that, but right now you need sleep. And water. A lot of water."

The blonde shook his head. "No. I-uh. Thanks. For keeping me from making a fool of myself in front of your family."

"They're your family too now," Minho said, his face inches away from Newt's.

The blonde hummed in agreement and leaned in for a proper kiss. Even with the alcohol on his breath, Newt tasted delectable. He let out addicting mewls and pulled Minho in impossibly closer. Only when he felt a hand cup his ass did he muster his remaining self-control and detach himself from his fiancée.

"I knew your true intentions all along."

The taller man hummed, "So give in."

Minho tsked, "Nice try. In the car."

Newt groaned but sat down with a huff. "Bossy."

"I love you too." And despite the disaster that was this evening, Minho meant it more than ever.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 **a/n: Sorry for the delay! I still have to write and post part 12! I want to make it the longest, best, fluffiest chapter yet! That'll be out either tomorrow or Christmas day!**


	12. Mashugana (Artist's Choice)

-Five years later-

Minho's car was already parked in the driveway when Newt pulled in, which was the first sign that something was off. Though it was not unheard of that Minho would return from work first, it was definitely unusual. And with Christmas just around the corner, Minho was picking up extra shifts to cover for the people at his police station who had children. Not that Newt minded: they had none of their own and needed the money.

Newt locked his car and made his way to the front door, which he found unlocked. He kicked off his dress shoes once inside, sighing in relief at the sensation. "Minho?" He called as he padded through the living room. When he didn't receive a response, he hurried into the kitchen, worried that something had happened.

"Minho, thank god," he said as he entered the kitchen. The Asian stood next to the table staring blankly at a pile of papers, still dressed in full police uniform. Newt shrugged off his thick coat and wrapped his arms around his husband. "Is everything ok?" He asked as he pressed a light kiss to Minho's neck.

"Look," the other man said suddenly, breaking out of his trance. He pushed an envelope towards Newt, who looked down at it in confusion.

"What's this?" He picked it up gingerly and turned it over twice.

"It's from the adoption agency."

Newt examined it closely, silently confirming the return address they'd been waiting for over a year to hear back from. The envelope was quite think and still unopened and the apprehension of what it could contain hung heavy in the air.

"Should we open it?" Minho asked, eyeing it in Newt's hand like it was a physical manifestation of the black plague.

"I don't think we have a choice."

"Yeah. We could _not_ open it."

Newt shook his head, "We have to open it eventually. What if it's good news?"

"What if it's _bad_ news?"

"I'm just going to open it." And he did, prying it open carefully with his pointer finger. He pulled out the letter inside it and began to read.

 _Dear Mr. and Mr. Wright,_

 _We are pleased to inform you that your application for adoption has been accepted after a thorough review of your application, proof of citizenship, and background check. Attached is a picture and short biography of the child that is up for your adoption, should you accept. Unfortunately no information regarding familial history can be released at this time.._

 _Should you accept, the attached forms must be completed thoroughly and accurately and be postmarked within thirty days. In the case that you would not like to complete the process, no response is necessary and you will be reentered into the pool of eligible adoptive families. Please be aware that this process could take up to a year._

 _Thank you for making a difference,_

 _Starlight Adoption Agency_

Newt read the letter twice to himself then aloud to Minho, still in disbelief. The odds had been stacked against them. Not only were they a same-sex couple, but they were newly married and both still under thirty.

Minho took longer to recover from the shock, but when he did he took the letter from Newt's hands and read it once more.

"Do you have the picture?" He asked when he was finished.

"Oh." Newt dove to the forgotten envelope and pulled out the remaining documents. He flipped through them until he found the paper mentioned in the letter.

The little girl pictured made their hearts melt. Her name was Brooke and she had the brightest smile they'd ever seen. She was almost two years old and had a gorgeous mop of blonde hair, which somewhat resembled Newt. They've only seen this one picture but they were already completely enraptured.

"Wow," Minho breathed out, echoing Newt's thoughts. "She's incredible."

"She's ours." It wasn't a question. They both already knew.

"We're going to be fathers," the Asian said, dumbfounded. "This is real."

Newt cupped Minho's cheek lightly, bringing their faces together. "Merry Christmas, Min."

"I love you," the other man responded, leaning in for a kiss. It was sweet and chaste but filled with the love that came with the idea of family.

"Aren't you glad we opened it now?" Newt asked with a light chuckle, pressing a kiss to the corner of his husband's mouth.

"You just want me to say you were right," Minho replied, though his infectious smile never left his face.

The blonde kissed him again, but pulled away before Minho could kiss back. "Because I was."

"This one time."

"Just because _you're_ wrong all the time," Newt teased.

Minho huffed indignantly, "Am not."

"The other day you wanted Mexican and didn't realize that the place was shut down until we got there!"

"Ok, but that's your fault too. You could've said something!"

"I wanted Chinese!"

"So that makes one mistake in my entire life. I can live with that."

"Two, actually," Newt joked, holding up the letter. "But I'm willing to forget about this one."

"Why's that?" Minho asked suspiciously, one eyebrow cocked.

"Because I love you. And because I know you'll be a great father."

"We both will."

And so they began the next chapter in their lives.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 **a/n: And that's a wrap on 12 days! I know this is short, but I liked where it ended! More to come on my other works shortly! Reviews/Favorites mean the absolute world to me! You guys are the best! Happy Holidays!**


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